


Romance of the Warrior

by RainbowSheltie



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Interracial Relationship, Klingon, Paralysis, Romance, Trills
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-20 21:16:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11929422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowSheltie/pseuds/RainbowSheltie
Summary: Ezri wasn’t a Starfleet officer, or a fighter like Jadzia and some of the previous Dax hosts. Ezri was just a Joined Trill woman, with paralysis resulting from a lower spinal column injury, and an all-consuming crush on a certain Klingon who wouldn’t give her a second look. Ezri’s currently working on that last one.





	1. Caretaker Keiko

**Author's Note:**

> **BETA** : TheSupernova

Ezri was probably the least qualified of all her previous hosts to be considered for the position of honorary Klingon. Which all in all, wouldn’t have been a problem, if she hadn’t fallen in love with Worf. It was extremely rare, if not unheard of, for a Joined-Trill to stay with the same lover over two joins.

Yet here she was, with this all-consuming crush on a Klingon who probably wouldn’t give her a second look. Now that she was no longer Jadzia, at least. Hell, the few times she tried talking to Worf, he just glared at her and stared (at something, Ezri wasn’t sure what, but most of the time it wasn’t her). She supposed her tendency to ramble on in her conversations was not all that endearing to a stoic, emotionally-challenged Klingon like him.

She was getting frustrated, but no way was Ezri going to give up. If her memoires served her right, Worf was the epitome of stubborn.

“No luck, huh?” Keiko asked gently. Keiko was one of the few people on board who believed Ezri had a shot with Worf.

Ezri smiled sadly. “Well, he did let me sit at his table in the canteen again! Although he did end up walking away exactly three minutes and thirty-five seconds later.”

“That’s an improvement from last time, isn’t it? He didn’t just storm off now, did he?” Keiko tilted her head. After a moment, Ezri’s lips curled into a tiny smile.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Ezri admitted.

The door to Keiko O'Brian's room chimed.

“Come in,” Keiko called out. The door slid open, and the doctor, Julian Bashir, stepped through, medkit in hand.

“Time for your daily shots,” he said happily.

 “You are way too happy about this.” Ezri pouted. “Those shots hurt, you know!”

Bashir waved her off. “You’ll live, I’m sure. You know the drill. Turn around and lift up the back of your shirt, please.”

Ezri glared at the doctor before turning around. Keiko scooted closer to her on the couch, holding Ezri in her arms.

“It’ll be quick, just like yesterday,” Keiko said, before adding, “and the day before that one, and the day before—”

Ezri let out a muffled grumble as she buried her face in Keiko’s neck. Despite their teasing, the familiarity of it all make her body relax.

“Are you ready?” Bashir asked, hypospray in hand. It contained a large vial of a strange, purple, gel-like liquid.

He held it a few inches above one of the lumber vertebrae on her spine. Ezri wrapped her arms around Keiko’s body in preparation and nodded shakily. She cried out immediately when the doctor injected the first dose into her spine. Bashir moved down three vertebrae before refilling the hypospray with a small vial of blue liquid.

This time he didn’t tell her before he injected the liquid. The last one hurt the most, and Ezri found it better to deal with the pain if it came in quick and unexpected.

Ezri was left shivering and crying in Keiko’s arms; whether or not it was Keiko’s maternal instinct that made Ezri feel better, she wasn’t sure. The doctor exchanged a few words with Keiko before he left, but Ezri was in too much pain to listen to what they were saying.

Keiko ran her fingers through Ezri’s short hair, holding her like she would a crying child. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard Miles O’Brian’s voice in the background. The voices of two small children could be heard, talking excitedly towards their mother before being shushed gently.

Eventually, the pain lacing through Ezri’s spine calmed down, and her eyelids began drooping.

“…anything for dinner?” Miles asked.

“Something with pasta,” Ezri mumbled out before falling asleep, wrapped in the safety of Keiko’s arms.

 


	2. The Klingons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **BETA** : TheSupernova

Ezri felt her body rolling through the air, slamming against the corridor walls with a sharp crack.

Her cry of pain barely sounded human. Ezri felt a heavy, thick boot against her stomach as she landed. It pressed harder; the force was so great she half-wondered if her ribs would crack under the pressure.

Streams of blood slid down the side of Ezri’s skull and face, matting her hair and forcing her left eye half-closed in response.

The Klingon towering over her was speaking, but she had no idea what he was saying. A faint ringing sound deafened her left ear, and her brain was too muddled already to really know what was going on.

Ezri last remembered going into a bakery and sweet shop for some goodies when… nothing. Her memories were gone, and Ezri was getting the shit knocked out of her by a pair of Klingons. As ironic as it was, Ezri was afraid of Klingons since she was young.

Finally, the boot was gone, and she turned over on her stomach, desperately trying to drag her lame body behind her. Ezri vaguely recognized the metallic wreckage of her wheelchair just down the walkway, all bent and broken.

Segments on Ezri’s lower spine caused her to cry out with each forward motion along the floor. It felt as if white hot spikes had been drilled between the vertebrae of her spine.

Ezri was scared. She wasn’t a Starfleet officer, or a fighter like Jadzia and some of the previous Dax hosts. Ezri was just a Joined Trill woman, whose lower spinal column had suffered irreparable damage from a Klingon attack in her childhood. Keiko had volunteered to be Ezri’s permanent caretaker while she lived on the DS9. Doctor Bashir took over her treatment for not only her spinal injury, but the virus contracted due to a complication with her injuries.

Gloved hands wrapped themselves around her throat, almost lovingly at first. The Klingon was speaking again, brushing his thumbs in a mocking caress across her skin. Ezri closed her eyes. The Klingon was kneeling over her, his knees pressing Ezri’s arms against the deck to prevent her from struggling.

_“Worf,”_ Ezri called the name repeatedly, because he was the only person Ezri wanted to save her right now. It was ironic, in a sense, that the very man she yearned for was also a Klingon. The only one she trusted.

It didn’t take long for lungs to burn dry as her airway collapsed in on itself. _Where was he?_ Ezri thought desperately. Maybe it was futile to hope that the Klingon who never gave her a second thought would suddenly have a change of heart and come to her rescue now. Yet hope was all Ezri had left.

* * *

The ceiling lights were bright against her eyes as her body floated through the air down the corridor. No, not floated, carried. Ezri blinked a few times, trying to get the man carrying her in focus but her head was swimming with pain.

“I’m taking you to sickbay,” Worf said.

Ezri smiled. Her savior had come, after all.

“Don’t leave me,” Ezri begged, eyes drooping. The darkness was dragging her back into its silent depths.

Worf’s voice sounded stilted as he said, “I won’t.”

But it was enough. Ezri felt her head lifted up, upper body almost curled across Worf’s chest. She wormed her fingers to the other side of Worf’s neck and finally let the darkness take her.


End file.
